her phone in my face and waves it around, making it impossible to focus on the image.
I grab it from her, so I can see what she’s so excited about. I frown, not because it’s a bad image, but because I have no idea who took it or why it has so many comments or likes. It’s a picture of Ronan and me, his arm slung over my shoulder and mine wrapped around his waist. We’re smiling at each other, and while it’s on his feed, it was taken in my shop. Based on what’s happening in the background and my outfit, it was taken a couple of days ago when we had a post-Christmas, pre–New Year’s collaborative event—which is what most of our events are at this point.
And it’s turned out to be incredibly positive in terms of the Best Bar competition. We both made it through to the quarterfinals, although The Knight Cap managed to secure spot number twelve, while B&B ranked as number fifteen. I think it has a lot to do with our duets during karaoke nights, not that I’ll say it out loud.
I read the caption. I’m aware that Ronan leaves that stuff to Lars and one of his servers, who sometimes pass things by me or Daphne, so they can manage what to post and when. This is clearly not a pre-approved post, but people seem to love it. Because they’ve dubbed us The Knight Cakes and have given us a hashtag.
“Who approved this hashtag? It’s terrible.”
“Really? I think it’s cute.” Daphne gives me her innocent look, which isn’t innocent at all.
“Blonan is not a cute hashtag. It’s too close to blowjob. Was this your idea? Who took this picture?”
“I had nothing to do with the hashtag. Your followers came up with it, and they’re loving it. Everyone ships you two.”
I roll my eyes. “We’re not dating, we’re collaborating.”
“Yet. You’re not dating yet.”
We’ve had this conversation several times over the past three weeks—ever since the night I fell asleep on Ronan’s couch. “Am I attracted to him? Yes. Is it a good idea to get involved with him? No.”
“Says who?”
“Says anyone who knows what it’s like to date someone you’re working with. It’s a recipe for disaster. See Raphael for details.” She can’t argue with that logic, considering the way that entire situation blew up in my face.
Although, if that hadn’t happened I might not be here, working for myself. I may barely be making ends meet, and I may also be very much in need of a month-long nap, but at least I’m doing what I love.
“Raphael was a douche canoe, and it’s not the same situation at all. You were not his equal, you were his student and he took advantage of a position of power. And then he seriously screwed you over because he likes to stick his dick in everything that moves. Including Baked Alaska.”
I shudder at that image. “It’s still not advisable. We’re competing against each other for Best Bar and we’re working together to keep our businesses afloat so those fuckers don’t push us out.” I motion across the street to the yet-to-open massive adult indoor arcade and bar.
Their grand opening is New Year’s Eve, of course. Which is why Ronan and I have been spending an inordinate amount of time together planning our own New Year’s bash.
We’ve gone over all the fine details relentlessly. I have not, however, been back to his place since the night I fell asleep on his couch. Has there been a suggestion that we might want to work at his place? Maybe, but since B&B closes earlier than The Knight Cap, it makes sense for us to plan at my shop. At least that’s been my rationale, and he hasn’t really pushed it.
Not to mention, that morning when I went into work late one of Tori Taylor’s people, who happens to be local, stopped in before I arrived. I missed my chance to make a good impression—or any impression at all, really.
And of course that same person ended up at Ronan’s, because he’s in the competition, too—only Ronan made it to the bar in time. I might find him attractive, but I don’t want to lose out on any other opportunities, should they arise.
It doesn’t mean we’re not flirting, or that I don’t find myself staring at his mouth, wondering how his lips would feel on mine.
It just means I’ve been circumventing the potential for further complications and excessive distractions. Until this